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If You Can’t Say Anything Nice…

Yesterday, our former director came in. He had officially resigned and needed to pack up his office. I heard his voice on the other side of the row of cubicles.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he tossed out at people as he and his girlfriend, aka reinforcements, passed by.

I didn’t go over and say hello. I didn’t wish him well in his new phase of life, which I guess is retirement, according to firsthand reports. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have it in me to spout pleasantries or make small talk. He threw me and several others of us under the bus in his quest to eschew blame for things that were clearly under his command.

I really thought about this. I prayed about it, sitting in my cube. Do I go over? What would I say? I’m not mad anymore, but what he did wasn’t okay. I couldn’t even, in my Christian “turn the other cheek” mode, justify a single word. Anything I said would come out as a lie to my ears. Or worse. Like…

“Hey, there. How are you? I fulfilled the records request from your attorney, the one where you asked for my calendar and emails. Thanks for believing the worst about me. Which was wrong, by the way.”

Hmm. Maybe I need to work on forgiveness a little more.

So, I did nothing. I heard our designated representative chat him up as he packed up boxes. I heard the rep ask questions. They laughed together. I thanked God for this rep, who is also a Christian. However, I should point out that Mr. Rep didn’t get tossed into the road like the rest of us. Also, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t go talk to him and say goodbye. In fact, he had to seek people out to get assistance – boxes, etc. I saw the back of old boss pass by in the hallway to the break area. I spotted him again as he left the building, girlfriend trotting behind him. It’s the end of an era. Old boss was a nice man, a good man. But when things didn’t go his way, he abandoned us and spun a conspiracy theory.

When it was all over, our IT guru handed me old boss’ company phone. I got the whole thing – box, cord, and mobile. I held it for a moment. I remembered how long it took for this iPhone to come in, and then how O.B. struggled to find a memorable number to attach to it.

“What do you think, Susan? Should I use 555-6050? Or maybe 555-7777?”

I smiled. I need to hold onto the good times, and let it go.

But if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins. – Matthew 6:15